


4 x 4

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, College, Coming Untouched, Friends to Lovers, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Humor, Innuendo, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Pet Names, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Semi-Public Sex, Service Top Shiro (Voltron), Smitten Keith (Voltron), Smitten Shiro (Voltron), Virgin Keith (Voltron), Wendy's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29921886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: When Keith gets an invite to Wendy's for a 4x4 from Shiro—his best friend and secret crush—he assumes fast food until Lance clues him into the phrase's other meaning. But is Shiro asking for a burger or a blow job?
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 76
Kudos: 253





	4 x 4

**Author's Note:**

> So this entire fic sprung from [this tweet](https://twitter.com/goldentruth813/status/1366890699887534082) which I obviously had to turn into a Sheith AU and I'm not even sorry because this was so much fun. So you know, here's the Wendy's porn fic no one asked for.
> 
> All the thanks to lole for being such an amazing beta!

“And he lives,” Lance yells.

Keith’s only got the door halfway open and he’s in no mood to deal with Lance.

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith grumbles, dropping his backpack by the door and kicking off his converse.

“Seriously, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I live here, asshole.”

“You wouldn’t know it, for all the time you spend _not here_. Especially this last week.”

“I’ve been busy,” Keith shrugs, bypassing Lance and heading directly for the kitchen and the fridge. He pulls it open, ignoring the fact that Lance has followed him into the kitchen as he pushes aside Lance’s chocolate milk in search of the orange juice that was definitely here two days ago. He finds it hidden behind a to-go container of questionable age which Keith refuses to open to further investigate the contents, along with an empty gallon of milk that should be in the recycling can, not in the fridge.

“How’s Shiro?”

“Who says I was with Shiro?” Keith asks, unscrewing the orange juice cap as he kicks the fridge door shut.

“ _Who says I was with Shiro?_ ,” Lance sing-songs. “As if you would be with anyone else. He’s like your only friend besides me.”

Keith rolls his eyes as he brings the carton to his mouth.

“I cannot believe you’re drinking from the carton like a gremlin. Get a fucking glass, dude.”

“You don’t like orange juice,” Keith says, licking the juice from his lips. “Why do you even care?”

“Because I have to look at you,” Lance grumbles, reaching around him to grab a glass off the drying rack. He shoves it at Keith who is tempted to refuse just to be ornery, it’s his juice and Lance doesn’t even drink it. He’d never drink out of the communal beverages. Still, Keith’s too exhausted to argue with Lance who never wins an argument because he's right, but because he’s so fucking loud.

“So, how is Shiro?” Lance asks again, waving the cup at Keith.

“He’s fine,” Keith answers, swiping the cup from his reach and dumping the rest of the orange juice into it. It’s so stupid to have to wash a cup now when there was only enough juice in there for right now anyway, but Keith isn’t in the mood for one of Lance’s house rules lectures.

“Fine, fine. That’s it?”

“You know you could text him if you’re so worried about him,” Keith shoots back.

Lance scoffs. “I did. He’s slow as fucking molasses texting back anyone but you. Somehow, Shiro is too busy to even remember to eat or breathe when everyone else is involved but the second it’s Keith, your phone just ding dongs.”

“My phone is always on silent. How do you know I text Shiro a lot?”

“I have eyes, mullet. You look like someone put a newborn puppy in your phone when you text him, which is a lot by the way.”

As if aware he’s being talked about, Keith’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, barely able to fight back a smile when he sees who the message is from.

 **Shiro** : _did you make it home okay?_

 _Yes, Shiro_ Keith types back as amused as he is fond

Not half a second later there's another one.

 **Shiro** : _don’t forget to hydrate, that was a long walk_

 _Its a ten minute walk, plus i have OJ_ he sends back, quickly snapping a selfie of his glass of juice covering most of his face

He sort of forgets he’s not alone until Lance begins gagging. “Gross, Keith has a crush.”

Keith blanches. “I do fucking not.”

“Yes, you do. It’s disgusting. I can’t believe you two aren’t dating already. Wait you’re not dating and you didn’t tell me are you? Because if so I’m going to need to have some serious words with you about the bro code and—”

“We are not dating,” Keith grits out, spilling orange juice on his hand as the cup shakes.

“Why not? You should be? You two spend all of your time together, you have a key to Shiro’s apartment, you spent the night there last night, which by the way where did you sleep?”

“None of your goddamn fucking business,” Keith mutters, lifting his juice.

Lance whistles. “I knew it. You’ve progressed from crashing on his couch to his bed haven’t you? Haven’t you?”

“If I did, which I’m not saying I did,” Keith reminds him, shaking his juice at Lance, “I slept on top of the sheets and he slept under them.”

“Sure,” Lance says, in a tone that says he very much doesn’t believe Keith. “You really expect me to believe you two didn’t get nasty under the sheets, didn’t play the horizontal hokey pokey, didn’t—”

“If I fucked Shiro last night, do really you think I’d be so fucking cranky right now?” Keith snaps, shutting his mouth the second the words are out.

“I knew it,” Lance yells, slapping his hand on Keith’s arm hard enough to sting., “I fucking knew you were in love with Shiro.”

Keith breathes his nose, trying to remember what the fuck those breathing exercises Shiro did, when he was stressed out about his grades, called for. He’s too annoyed to remember how many seconds he’s supposed to breathe in and out and settles for nearly hyperventilating instead. Sure, maybe he’s been in love with Shiro since the day he met him last year, but no one is supposed to know that. Especially not fucking Lance.

“You know when you two finally get together, and get married, I think I should be the one giving the toast at your wedding for helping get you two together.”

“What the fuck?” Keith groans. “We’re not together and also you didn’t do jack shit. I met Shiro in the library during my first semester.”

“Yeah and why were you at the library?” Lance asks as if the answer is obvious.

“Because you wouldn’t lend me your fucking psych book and I had to try and track it down at the library because you’re a fucking selfish asshole.”

“Exactly, therefore your destiny was made possible because of me,” Lance says, brushing the back of his knuckles on the front of his shirt. “You’re welcome.”

“You are something else,” Keith groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. He opens his mouth to tell Lance exactly what he is when his phone buzzes again, and Keith abandons his conversation with Lance in favor of checking his phone.

“See,” Lance says.

Keith chooses to ignore him, reading Shiro’s text message twice.

 **Shiro** : _We need to do something to celebrate your last final tomorrow. You me and a 4 x 4 at Wendy's?_

“Well, what did the lover boy say?”

“Nothing,” Keith lies, about to text Shiro back when Lance swipes his phone right out of his hand.

“Oh my god, he did not,” Lance whistles.

“What?” Keith asks, setting his juice down in favor of trying to grab his phone.

“What do you mean _what_. Good boy, dean's list, proper as hell Shiro, is propositioning you?”

“What?” Keith repeats, eyebrows knitting together as he reaches for his phone which Lance annoyingly holds out of reach. “He did not.”

“Yes he did. I'm staring at the message right now.”

“Give me that,” Keith grumbles, nearly tackling Lance to the floor to get his phone back. He turns it around, both surprised and not surprised to see the same Wendy’s text message there, which he holds up to Lance. “See, burgers.”

“Burgers,” Lance splutters. “Jesus don’t you know anything. That doesn’t mean a burger.”

“Well, I mean, technically it's a coke and a burger, fries and chicken nuggets. Shiro really loves nuggets.”

Lance looks like he isn’t sure if he wants to scream or cry. “How are you like this?”

“It’s just Wendy's.”

“It’s not just Wendy's, he wants to suck your dick, dude.”

Keith definitely hyperventilates again. Just a little bit.

“If you don’t believe me, look,” Lance tells him, stealing Keith’s phone again. When he gives it back his web browser is open to the urban dictionary, along with a definition Keith never thought he would read.

_4 x 4 a deal at Wendy's involves giving head at the bathroom. Great Deal._

Keith reads it three more times, but every single time more of the blood in his body leaves his head and departs south. 

“This is not what Shiro means,” Keith croaks.

“How do you know?” Lance asks, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Because… because he’s _Shiro_. We’re best friends.”

“That’s like an answer for fucking, not against it,” Lance says. “Need I remind you that Allura and I were best friends before we got together.”

“That’s not actually true.”

“Whatever this isn’t about me, this is about you and the fact that Shiro is _finally_ making a move. We’ve got a bet going in the discord—”

“What discord?” Keith interrupts with a frown.

“The one I tried to invite you to join when you moved in with me,” Lance says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. “You know my server where I play DnD with Hunk and Pidge and Allura.”

“Oh right,” Keith agrees, mostly to placate Lance. “That still doesn’t answer why the fuck anyone is making bets on my dating life.”

“That my dude, is entirely beside the point right now,” Lance says, throwing an arm around Keith’s shoulder. “The point is, that you’re finally going to do the deed with Shiro. I mean Wendy's isn’t the most romantic place to lose your virginity but it's Shiro so we can look past it.”

Keith has to count to mentally count to five to stop from screaming.

“Why the fuck do you assume I’m a virgin?” Keith asks, shoving Lance’s arm off his shoulder.

“I mean—” Lance pauses, looking him up and down and giving Keith the urge to actually punch him. He has to remind himself that Lance actually means well most of the time, he’s just a massive fucking pain in the ass about it.

“You know what, I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Hey, if you’re nervous about letting someone touch your dick for the first time I can—”

“Just stop talking,” Keith yells, covering his ears and walking out of the room. 

The last thing he hears is a muffled _I bet Shiro will love your virgin dick more than nuggets_ before he slams his bedroom door hard enough to knock one of his pictures off the wall. 

Finally alone Keith faceplants on his bed and does the thing he’s wanted to do for the last half hour—scream. When he finishes, he digs his phone out of his pocket and searches 4 x 4 at Wendy's for himself. The first few google hits are examples of the value menu at Wendy’s but the third and fourth are the same thing Lance showed him. The idea that there is even one tenth of a possibility that Shiro meant more than chicken nuggets, makes Keith’s face burn and his dick harden.

The prospect of having his dick sucked in a Wendy’s bathroom should not make Keith’s dick weep, but Lance wasn’t entirely wrong earlier—he is a virgin—and the prospect of having someone else suck his dick, regardless of location, is pretty fucking enticing. Then you add in the fact that it’s _Shiro_ , the guys he’s basically been in love with for a year, and well it’s a lot to handle.

It's enough for Keith to drop his phone in favor of slipping a hand down into his shorts—his cold hand reaching for his warm dick as images of Shiro flit into his mind.

Shiro’s big hands and bigger smile. Shiro’s stupid ass jokes and color coded study charts. Shiro who keeps protein bars in his backpack not for himself, but for Keith who gets cranky when he forgets to eat.

The more he thinks about Shiro, the harder his dick gets—come leaking out the tip as jerks his wrist. He pauses only long enough to lift his hips and shove his shorts down to his hips, before wrapping his hand around his dick again.

A sigh of pleasure falls from Keith’s lips as he tightens the grip, imagining Shiro touching him. It’s all too easy to get carried away, to imagine the way Shiro might crowd up into his personal space and pull Keith close, the way he might kiss Keith, the way he might look dropping to his knees and opening his pretty mouth.

It’s embarrassing to realize how much the idea excites him, enough pre squirting out now to really make the strokes feel good.

A lifetime without privacy means Keith is an expert at making it quick to avoid being caught, picking up the speed of his strokes as he turns his face into his pillow to muffle the sounds he can’t stop from making while he pretends his fist is Shiro’s mouth.

Shiro is so thoughtful, so helpful, it’s easy for Keith to let himself get carried away imagining how attentive a lover he might be. 

Would Shiro be slow and sweet, licking and sucking at Keith’s dick tenderly? Or would he be a little dirty, grabbing Keith’s hip and making Keith beg? Both prospects are equally alluring, and Keith wants Shiro to be gentle with him as much as he wants Shiro to shove him against the wall and make him scream. Shiro could do anything he wants to Keith and would fucking say thank you.

Unbidden, the memory of Shiro sucking on a big stick on the 4th of July flashes into Keith’s mind. It’s been months since Keith saw Shiro basically deepthroating the thick red and yellow popsicle—sticky red syrup dripping down his chin as he smiled at Keith.

Keith had jerked off so hard that night he’d nearly blacked out. It’d taken months for him to stop randomly remembering the way Shiro’s long tongue had looked lapping around the dripping base of his popsicle. The memory returns in full force now and Keith is left with a pretty good mental image of what Shiro might look like with a full mouth.

It’s way too much for Keith’s pathetic heart to handle and he’s helpless to slow the cresting of his orgasm as he rolls sideways onto one of his pillows. Not even the knowledge of the walk of shame he’s going to have to make in front of Lance with his dirty sheets later, is enough to sour the tingle of pleasure that floods Keith’s body as he rolls onto his hands and knees and humps his pillow, biting down hard on his bottom lip to keep from screaming.

It’s not often he lets himself picture Shiro when he jerks off, both because he can’t stop himself from being noisy when he does, and because its hard enough to look Shiro in the eyes sometimes knowing how bad he wants to fuck his best friend. Allowing himself to jerk off to Shiro feels too intimate and the orgasms always make Keith breathless and shaky.

Today is no different and Keith feels the air sucked from his lungs as he whines, unable to stop rutting against his pillow even after his dick softens.

It’s only when his dick is sensitive enough that the cotton of his pillowcase starts to hurt that he stops moving, collapsing onto the sticky pillow with a groan. Floating on a cloud of post coital bliss, Keith is unprepared for the knock at his door.

“Word of advice, don’t be noisy at Wendy’s or someone might call the cops,” Lance yells.

Keith grabs his calculus book off the bedside table and chucks it at the door, the resounding thud satisfying. “Go the fuck away.”

“I’m just trying to help you get laid,” Lance yells back.

“I don’t need your fucking help,” Keith yells, rolling onto his back and tucking his softened dick back into his shorts. He’s pretty sure Lance won’t just barge in, but there’s really no telling with him sometimes.

“Fine, fine,” Lance mutters from the other side of the door. “By the way will you bring me back some nuggets tomorrow? The spicy ones.”

“God, go away,” Keith groans, thunking his head back against the wall.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lance chirps.

Keith doesn’t bother answering, hoping lack of engagement will make him leave. It does and after a good sixty seconds without Lance reminding him to get the ranch dipping sauce, Keith allows himself to relax. Sort of.

Mostly he panics, unsure what to make of the entire situation.

Propositioning Keith for a blow job in the Wendy’s bathroom isn’t exactly Shiro’s style. Then again, Shiro has been single for as long as Keith’s known him, so he has no idea what Shiro’s style might be. He knows Shiro has an ex he doesn’t really like to talk about, and that things got messy after the accident that cost Shiro his arm six months before he met Keith.

At first Keith thought Shiro was burnt out on love after his last relationship went so sour, then he started to wonder if maybe Shiro just wasn’t interested in dating or sex period. There’ve been moments recently though, where Shiro seeks out his company more and more, like offering his bed last night after a late night study session instead of the couch.

Keith had chalked it up to Shiro being Shiro, always worried about everyone else’s comfort. But what if he’s been trying to make a move and Keith was too blind to notice? He’s wondered a few times if maybe Shiro felt the same about him, especially since they’re basically as good as dating- without the dating -with the amount of time they spend together. They have a gym membership they share and a joint Netflix account. Then there’s all the platonic cuddling which, well—Shiro’s a tactile guy and Keith likes being touched if it’s Shiro. 

But Shiro’s never made a move on Keith, never given any indication about wanting more. And he would, Keith thinks. Surely if Shiro was in love with Keith too, or had feelings for him at all, he would’ve told him. They tell each other everything.

Everything.

Then again, Keith’s been hiding the fact that he’s in love with Shiro for over a year so he’s probably not the poster boy for complete honesty in their friendship. Though in Keith’s defense, he’s been hiding it because of his own stupid ass fucked up fear of abandonment, which is not an issue that Shiro suffers from. He’s a fuck ton less emotionally constipated than Keith which means if he had feelings for Keith he would just be a normal human and asked him out.

Maybe.

Keith swallows down his confusion, picking up his phone and rereading Shiro's last text message. What if this is Shiro’s way of asking Keith for more without putting pressure on him? What if he’s just being a good friend and offering Keith a blow job to help with Keith’s post finals fatigue? 

Holding his breath he swipes open messages and shoots a text to Shiro.

_You and a 4 x 4 sounds perfect_

Once it’s sent he throws his phone down and groans. He can only hope that was casual enough to play off as food related—if that’s all it is—but suave enough if this is some kind of double innuendo, Shiro will know for sure Keith is interested.

There are too many possibilities and Keith’s too much of a human fucking disaster to know if Shiro wants nuggets or his dick. 

Apparently he will find out tomorrow at Wendy’s.

* * *

It’s only by a small miracle that Keith survives the following day. The prospect of maybe possibly having sex with Shiro is enough to keep Keith up half the night. He’s at least smart enough to bring a few extra towels into his room for the marathon jerking off, but he ends up walking out of his bedroom the next morning and directly into Lance—his arms full of come covered towels. 

Lance barks out a laugh and proceeds to drive Keith insane the rest of the morning, making it nearly unbearable for him to finish his last minute cramming. He should have done it the night before, but neglected in favor of fucking into his own hand while imagining it was Shiro’s mouth. 

By ten in the morning he gives up entirely, leaving his apartment and heading to the quad to study, but the last day of finals means everyone is either done with their own finals and being noisy as all fuck or so tense their stressed out energy makes it impossible for him to focus. After an hour he tries to go to the library but every goddamn table and chair is taken, which leaves Keith no option but to squat down in one of the lesser used hallways outside his classroom where he spends the next hour reviewing his notes about the specific aerodynamics of space exploration.

In the end Keith’s gifted enough at the subject that he’s pretty sure he aces the exam, even without having studied enough, but the euphoria of actually finishing his last final is tempered by the emotional roller coaster of the last twenty four hours. Keith’s exhausted and relieved and happy, and also really fucking nervous.

He’s barely out of his classroom when his phone buzzes in his pocket and Keith is helpless to contain his smile when he sees Shiro’s name on his lockscreen.

 **Shiro:** _How’d it go?_

 _Good_ Keith answers, slinging his backpack over his right shoulder as he makes his way across campus to drop off his books at home.

 **Shiro** _of course it did, I knew you’d kill it._

Keith’s chest flutters and before he can respond there’s another message popping up.

 **Shiro:** _You still down for that 4 x 4?_

The feeling in Keith’s chest shifts from gentle butterflies to a dragon as Lance’s words from yesterday resurface, leaving Keith unsure if Shiro’s text is innocent or innuendo.

 _Yeah I haven’t stopped thinking about the offer, but are you sure it’s what you want?_ Keith texts back before he can lose his nerve as he tries to suss out whether Shiro means nuggets or a blow job.

The responding text comes in ten seconds flat.

 **Shiro:** _As long as you’re happy I’m happy_

Keith stops dead in his tracks, nose wrinkled. It’s sweet as fuck but he needs to make sure Shiro is doing this because he wants to, and not just to make Keith happy.

 _I want you to want this as much as me_ Keith sends back, grateful Shiro can’t see the way his hand shakes a little. 

**Shiro:** _You know I’m not picky, Keith, we can do it anywhere_

It. The word makes Keith’s tongue feel too big for his mouth. Does he mean celebrate Keith’s last final, or suck Keith’s dick? If Keith were a braver man he could just text Shiro and ask but not even Keith’s impulsivity is high enough to get him to ask that question right now.

He needs to be face to face with Shiro, then he will know what’s going on. 

Maybe.

Hopefully.

Decision made Keith sends Shiro one last text.

_I’m just heading home to drop my stuff off. Pick me up in twenty_

* * *

“You’re not wearing that to get your dick sucked are you?” Lance asks, leaning against the living room wall as he bites into an apple.

Keith looks down at the clothes he’s wearing, a pair of faded jeans with holes in the knees and his favorite long sleeve t-shirt. It’s objectively a little old and faded but there are no stains and it’s soft.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just… _wondering_.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Keith asks, tugging on the hem of his shirt suddenly self conscious.

“You know what nevermind. I mean Shiro already looks at you like you hung the fucking moon and stars, it doesn’t really matter what you wear now.”

“He what?” Keith asks, head spinning.

“Oh my god,” Lance groans, pushing off the wall. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”

Keith grumbles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Dude, at Allura’s birthday last month—” but Lance is cut off by a knock on the front door. 

Before Keith can beat him to it, Lance sprints across the living room to yank the door open. Sure enough standing in the doorway in all six feet, four inches of glory, is Shiro. The late afternoon sun is at just the right position to fall behind the massive tree in the center of the apartment complex casting little slivers of light to fall across Shiro’s face, which somehow manages to make him look even more breathtaking than usual.

He’s dressed in a pair of grey joggers that might as well be fucking painted on—the soft cotton hugging his muscled calves and thick thighs in a way that make Keith’s lungs feel short on oxygen. As usual he’s paired them with a pair of white sneakers and an equally white t-shirt. It’s an objectively innocent outfit, but it looks like fucking porn on Shiro. Especially since Shiro’s t-shirt is so thin that Keith can see the outline of his dark nipples, see the little nubs of his nipples poking through the shirt.

A lifetime of repressing his emotions and desires means Keith’s become an expert at feigning nonchalance in the face of Shiro’s perfection, but the last twenty four hours have shattered all of Keith’s careful honed abilities. Instead of smiling at Shiro or saying hi like a normal person, all Keith can do is swallow his own spit and adjust his jeans as he tries to will his traitorous dick to chill the fuck out.

“Hello, Shiro,” Lance greets, sounding happier than any human has a right to be right now. 

“Hey, Lance,” Shiro says.

Shiro’s gaze quickly flits over to Keith and _oh fuck_ Keith maybe sees what Lance meant before. Shiro’s friendly smile for Lance transforms into something unmistakable softer as he locks eyes with Keith, and all Keith can do is wonder how the fuck he didn’t see it before.

“Keith,” Shiro says, managing to make Keith’s name sound like something precious.

“Wow, yeah. You guys might need two 4 for 4’s today,” Lance snorts, doing something stupid with his eyebrows that makes Keith wheeze.

“Oh, are you really hungry, Keith?” Shiro asks, the fucking picture of innocence and concern. 

“Yeah, Keith, are you really _hungry_?” Lance echoes in a far less pleasing tone.

“Come on, Shiro, let's go,” Keith says, ignoring Lance’s question as he makes his way to the door, desperate to leave before Lance says anything else incriminating. 

“Bye, Lance,” Shiro yells as Keith grabs his arm and drags him away from the door.

“Enjoy that four by four,” Lance shouts as Keith kicks the door shut behind them, the words echoing in the thankfully empty apartment hallway.

It’s not until they’re in the parking lot safely ensconced in Shiro’s jeep that Keith allows himself a moment to breathe, Lance’s words still echoing in his ears.

“Ready?” Shiro asks, buckling his seatbelt and waiting for Keith to do the same. 

“Mhmm,” Keith agrees, not sure if he’s ready or not.

Shiro’s either driving them to get a value meal, or take Keith’s virginity. 

“So how does it feel to be a free man?” Shiro asks as he backs out of his parking spot and heads out onto the road. “Well, for the next two weeks anyway.”

“Fucking amazing,” Keith answers, leaning back against his seat and turning his head just enough to watch Shiro out of the corner of his eye.

Shiro looks so fucking good, thighs spread as he hits the gas as he curls his metal fingers around the stick shift. It’s not the first time Keith’s lamented about the unfairness of someone who looks like Shiro driving something that makes him look even sexier, but it's definitely the most he’s ever let his mind wander while watching Shiro drive.

“Good, we’re gonna have fun,” Shiro grins, eyes never leaving the road.

Even his stupid safety awareness while driving turns Keith on, and it’s all Keith can do not to palm his dick which is half hard and just waiting for an excuse to fully chub up. Though what really gets Keith going is the way Shiro says _we_ ; as if it's just a given that they’re going to spend all of their free time together.

“Would you believe I dreamed about the four by four last night,” Shiro says, eyes on the road.

Keith’s dick twitches at the words. That definitely sounds like sex.

“Yeah,” Keith croaks. “Was it uh...a good dream?”

“Well you were in it so obviously,” Shiro laughs.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Shiro’s smooth tone makes goosebumps pop up on Keith’s. He’s got to mean a blow job, Keith’s sure of it. 

“Do you know what you want yet?” Shiro asks and Keith’s entire body flushes at the simple question. 

Does he have a choice? Urban dictionary had led him to believe it was just a blowjob, but Keith’s not adverse to a mutual handjob either. Hell, he’d even let Shiro fuck him against the grimy bathroom wall if Shiro asked. Keith would do anything with Shiro if he asked. 

Fuck Keith likes him so much. 

“Um, I’m not picky.”

“That’s true, you’re not. You like everything don’t you?” Shiro says.

“Yeah,” Keith agrees, digging his fingers into his thigh and watching in equal parts shock and horror as his dick hardens in his jeans.

“I’m just dying for it, you know?” Shiro laughs. “You know when you want something in your mouth so bad you can almost taste it.”

Keith’s inhale is sharp as he turns wide eyes on Shiro. He knew Shiro could be playful and stubborn and even a bit of a secret troublemaker, but he didn’t know he was so _dirty_.

“You uh...you want it in your mouth that bad?”

“Oh my god- yes,” Shiro assures him, reaching for the radio dial. He pushes it in and immediately Keith’s ears are full of the filthiest lyrics he’s ever heard.

“I have you open all night like you Ihop,” Shiro sings loudly and off key. “I take you home baby let you keep me company. You gimme some of you, I give you some of me. You look good, baby must taste heavenly.”

The only saving grace for Keith in this moment, is the fact that the radio is blaring and Shiro therefore can’t hear the absolute fucking dying whale noises he makes, at those lyrics coming out of Shiro’s sweet mouth.

It’s so wrong and so fucking right.

“I love this song,” Shiro yells as he turns the volume _up_.

“Have it your way, foreplay. Before I feed your appetite. Let me get my ticket baby, let me get in line.”

There’s something in Shiro’s tone that Keith’s never heard before, and it makes Keith’s dick throb in his jeans.

Filthy.

Shiro is filthy.

“Sing with me, Keith,” Shiro yells, rolling the windows down and shaking his head as he yells, “I can tell the way you like, baby, super size. Hold on, you got yours, let me give mine.”

As if a man possessed, Keith is helpless to slow his arousal and his happiness, throwing his head back and more yelling than singing, “Take my order cause your body is like a carry out.”

Shiro tightens his left hand on the steering wheel as they sing together, the lyrics filthy but the mood sweet. It’s so distracting Keith momentarily forgets what’s about to happen, at least until Shiro flips on his blinker and turns into Wendy’s—big red letters lit up in front of them.

As always, Shiro takes the spot in the furthest back corner, always afraid someone might accidentally ding his paint job with their car doors. As he turns the engine off, the radio goes silent and the only sound left is Keith’s racing heart.

“You know you’ve got a nice voice,” Shiro tells him, popping his seatbelt off.

“You too,” Keith grins, anxiety finally dwindling. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always, Keith.”

“I was sort of nervous, before. When you suggested this.”

“You were nervous? Why?” Shiro asks, turning in his seat.

“I mean, you know—you’re you, for one. And I mean I know it’s not like a big deal and virginity is a stupid societal construct but still.”

At Shiro’s blank stare, Keith continues. “Not that I want to put pressure on you or whatever. Like it’s not that big of a deal right? Guys lose their virginity all the time, and yeah maybe not to their best friend who they’re basically in love with at a Wendy’s but—”

“Keith,” Shiro interrupts, looking close to passing out, “what are you talking about? Why exactly do you think we’re here?”

“For, um….for a four for four,” Keith squeaks, suddenly not so sure about this after all.

If Shiro meant what he thought he meant, then it doesn’t explain why Shiro looks like a deer in headlights.

“What kind of four for four, Keith?”

Completely incapable of words and terrified he might cry if he opens his mouth, he pulls out his phone and does a quick google search before turning the screen towards Shiro.

“A four by four is a deal at Wendy’s that includes,” Shiro starts, abruptly slamming his mouth shut as his big doe eyes shoot from the phone to Keith and back again. “I...you… _Keith_.”

“If I should get out of the car and walk into oncoming traffic, just tell me now,” Keith says, dropping his phone onto his lap where it proceeds to slide sideways down his leg and onto the floor just like his heart.

Shiro is quiet, and not in the companionable silence way. He’s quiet in a _my best friend is insane_ way, and Keith is tempted to climb out the partially rolled down window.

“Lance said—”

“Lance knows,” Shiro croaks.

Keith sinks down into his seat, unsure if he feels more guilty or embarrassed. Shiro is so private and Keith hates himself for making Shiro uncomfortable. 

“He doesn’t _know_ anything, he’s just a nosy fucker. He said that um...you know—” Keith trails off, dropping his hands into his lap.

“I don’t know, Keith. I don’t know,” Shiro says, his tone taking on something different, something small.

“I’m going to fucking kill Lance,” Keith says, squeezing his eyes shut to stave off the moisture pooling at the corners. He wants to fucking die. He’s never been more embarrassed in his entire life. Worse he’s maybe ruined things with his favorite person on the entire fucking planet. 

“What did Lance say,” Shiro asks, followed by a hand on his leg.

Keith’s eyes fly open to see metal fingers curling around his knee. There’s an expression on Shiro’s face that Keith’s never seen before, one he’s not entirely sure how to read.

“He said you look at me like I hung the stars and the moon,” Keith whispers, figuring he’s so fucking far down this hole nothing can make it worse.

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” Shiro says. “You’re so important to me, Keith.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Keith mumbles, unsure if he’s having an out of body experience.

“He’s not wrong,” Shiro repeats. “I’ve looked at you like that since we met but you never….you never seemed to notice. I thought you weren’t interested. You told me once I was like a brother to you and—”

“I was drunk,” Keith all but screeches. “I drunk gay panicked!”

Keith’s definitely having an out of body experience now. He only has the most vague memory of getting completely fucking smashed at his twenty first birthday, and crawling into Shiro’s lap. He’d only had about one percent of his brain left, just enough to stop himself from asking Shiro to make him a happy birthday boy. They’d never talked about it after, which was fine by Keith since crawling into Shiro’s lap and asking for his hair to be petted was one of the most embarrassing events of his entire adult life. He didn’t know Shiro remembered, or that he’d taken him so fucking literally.

“Oh, so you uh...don’t see me like a brother,” Shiro asks.

“Holy shit no,” Keith gasps.

“And you thought I was taking you to Wendy’s for a blow job,” Shiro says, the words sounding ludicrous when he hears them out loud.

Unable to handle the embarrassment Keith covers his face with his hand and grunts. “Maybe.”

“Keith, I wouldn’t.”

“Right, gonna go walk into oncoming traffic now,” Keith says, reaching for the door handle.

Before he can leave the jeep, Shiro is leaning across Keith’s body and pulling the door shut again. The pleasure at having Shiro in his lap is diminished by the reason he’s there.

“Please let me go die of shame,” Keith moans pitifully.

Shiro is so fucking kind that of course he won’t hate Keith, but Keith’s not sure he will ever live this down. He’s not sure he will ever be able to get over this. He might one day heal from the heartbreak as long as he never loses Shiro’s friendship, but the embarrassment is another thing entirely. It’s going to haunt him until he dies, until—

“Keith, are you listening to me?” Shiro asks, reaching down to place a hand on Keith’s knee.

Unable to form words that aren’t embarrassing and soul baring Keith shakes his head, his heart beating so fast it's hard for him to breathe. 

“I said I would never take you to Wendy’s for a blow job, because you deserve better than a grimy fast food blow job.”

It takes a good ten seconds for the words to sink in, but when they do Keith’s sad, embarrassed dick which had softened leaps to attention.

“You uh….you mean,

“I mean I’m in love with you too, and definitely want to suck your dick, just maybe not in the Wendy’s bathroom.”

“You...oh my god,” Keith exhales, suddenly lightheaded.

“Where?” Keith blurts. 

“Where what?”

“Where would you suck my dick?” Keith asks before his brain to mouth filter can work.

For some reason _this_ is the thing to make Shiro blush. “Anywhere you want.”

Keith swallows loudly, feeling as if he’s just gone upside down on a roller coaster—his stomach in his throat and endorphins flooding his body.

Shiro likes him.

Shiro _loves_ him.

Shiro wants to suck his dick.

The last one is the one flashing through his mind in bright neon letters and Keith’s too excited to be embarrassed at the way his dick is already hard. An idea taking shape, Keith turns his head to glance at Shiro’s backseat. It’s tight, especially for Shiro but maybe.

“Oh, here?”

“I mean you don’t have to but—”

“I want to,” Shiro interrupts, his adam's apple bobbing as he learns forward, slipping a hand across Keith’s cheek and leaning across the center console to press his lips to Keith’s.

It’s not Keith’s first kiss, but it is the best because it’s _Shiro_. It’s the best because it's his best friend, the boy he loves more than life itself, slipping his fingers into Keith’s hair as he deepens the kiss.

Desperate for more Keith finds himself moving out of his seat to awkwardly climb into Shiro’s lap. It’s a bit too tight of a squeeze and Keith ends up kneeing Shiro’s dick and laying on the horn with his ass in his attempts to sit.

“Jesus fuck,” Keith groans, abandoning the kiss to shove his face into Shiro’s neck and hide.

“I think maybe we should go to the back,” Shiro mutters, voice a little tight from the knee to the balls. He’s not telling Keith he changed his mind though so Keith dares to remove his face from Shiro’s neck.

“You haven’t changed your mind?”

“Nothing in the world could make me change my mind about you.”

“I fucking love you so much,” Keith groans, slamming his lips against Shiro’s in a toe curling kiss that’s quick and messy as he presses his clothed dick against Shiro’s quivering belly. 

“Keith,” Shiro whimpers into the kiss, his big hands digging into Keith’s ass.

“Please suck my dick,” Keith groans into the kiss. “Please.”

“So polite, baby.”

Heat floods Keith’s body at the nickname and he nearly creams his fucking jeans.

“Say it again,” Keith begs, too turned on to be abashed.

“ _Baby_ ,” Shiro croons.

A new sound is pulled from Keith, one that sounds embarrassingly like a moan as he nips at Shiro’s bottom lip and sucks it between his teeth, earning him an equally dirty sound from Shiro.

“Back seat, now,” Keith demands, abandoning all pretenses of being anything but desperate as all fuck for Shiro to blow him.

“God you’re so hot when you’re bossy,” Shiro groans.

“Okay then um...um...get in the back of the Jeep and suck my dick,” Keith demands, unable to not tack on a quiet, “please.”

“Anything for you, baby,” Shiro whispers, pressing a kiss to Keith’s cheek before opening his door.

It’s a bit of an awkward slide out of the car, mostly because Shiro doesn’t remove his massive fucking hands form Keith’s waist, but they manage. Once outside the Jeep Keith is eternally glad that Shiro is a paranoid fucker about his paint job because they’re the only ones in the furthest back corner of the parking lot giving them plenty of privacy.

Keith’s never had sex in a parking lot—or sex period actually—but if pressed he would say it’s probably best not to be parked near anyone else. He’s not exactly turned on by the idea of having the cops called on them, but he’s also not patient enough to wait until they get back to Shiro’s place for more privacy. If Keith doesn’t get Shiro’s mouth on his dick very soon he’s pretty sure he might actually die.

“Can’t have you dying,” Shiro laughs, pinching Keith’s ass.

Keith’s too fucking horny to be embarrassed about accidently talking out loud and settles for reaching for the door handle. Shiro beats him to it, opening it with a boyish grin—the smooth fucker.

“You know I’m basically a guaranteed lay right, you don’t have to do that.”

Shiro moves forward, crowding Keith’s back up against the door and moving into his personal space as he tips his face down to whisper, “Oh, Keith, you know how much I like to take care of what’s mine.”

“Am I yours?” Keith dares to ask.

“I sure fucking hope so,” Shiro says, grabbing Keith’s hips and lifting him into the backseat as if Keith weighed fucking nothing. He’s such a goddamn show off and it’s hot as hell.

“Good. That’s good, then yes...yes,” Keith huffs, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s neck to pull him inside the backseat with him. “I’m yours and you’re mine.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” Shiro says as he crawls in atop Keith, somehow managing to pull the door shut behind him. He hovers there above Keith—his knee wedged between Keith and the backstreet and his other leg awkwardly bent to the left as he braces his hands on the window frame. 

“Have you always been so big?” Keith says, still apparently unable to filter his thoughts.

“Not _always_. I was a baby once.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Keith snorts, pinching Shiro’s hip. “Fucking smartass.”

Shiro laughs, always more pleased with his own jokes than anyone else.

“Hey, Keith.”

“Yeah, Shiro?”

“Can I get you a four for four?”

“Oh my god,” Keith groans. “You did not.”

Shiro laughs again and it’s only the fact that Keith is absolutely fucking sweet on him that stops him from screaming. 

“You’re never going to let me live this down are you?” Keith asks, tugging on Shiro’s shirt so he lowers himself enough to give Keith a quick peck on the lips.

“So what part of the four by four is the blow job? Like is this the burger because of the meat or like the soda because I’m _thirsty_ or—”

“You can really stop any time,” Keith snorts, inching his hands down Shiro’s body towards his dick.

“I could do this all—oh my god,” Shiro moans, rocking his hips into Keith’s hand as Keith palms his dick, marveling at how damn big he feels fully hard.

Hard because of Keith.

“Suck me,” Keith tells him, their lips brushing together as Keith palms him again. 

“Yes, okay...yes,” Shiro stutters, dropping down onto the floor.

It’s on the tip of Keith’s tongue to ask Shiro if he’s comfortable when Shiro reaches for his jeans, tugging the zipper down before trying to yank them down. Keith would tease him about being eager but Keith’s no better, pretty sure he’s all of ten seconds away from premature ejacaulation just from the sight of Shiro squeezed onto the floor of his jeep, all for Keith’s dick.

Somehow it’s as if he has no idea how to move his own fucking body, nearly kneeing Shiro in the face as he tries to lift his hips so Shiro can pull his jeans and boxers off. It takes a few attempts and more than a few laughs before Keith’s left naked from the waist down with his legs spread wide.

“Look at you,” Shiro breathes, one hand on each of Keith’s thighs as he smooths his palms from knee to hip.

It’s surprisingly vulnerable to be half dressed, maybe even more so than being completely naked. Keith is so hyper aware of his body, of the fact that his thighs and knees are hairy and there’s a scar on his left calf from when he jumped off the back of a moving truck when he was twelve. He suddenly wonders if he was supposed to do something before now? Was he supposed to shave his balls or moisturize? Was there pre blow job etiquette Keith missed.

“Breathe, baby,” Shiro whispers, kissing the inside of his left thigh. “It’s just me.”

It being _just Shiro_ is entirely the problem. 

It’s _just Shiro_ the boy who became Keith’s first friend when he unexpectedly transferred universities so he could live closer to home. _Just Shiro_ is the boy who once stayed up for forty eight hours straight to help Keith cram for a midterm for a class he’d never even taken, so Keith wouldn’t lose his scholarship. _Just Shiro_ , the guy who eats the bottom of Keith’s blueberry muffins from the cafeteria because Keith only likes the tops and who keeps red licorice in his glove compartment because it’s Keith’s favorite. It’s _just Shiro_ who smells good and looks good and _is good_.

 _Just Shiro_ who is the best goddamn person Keith has ever known in his life and who he’s somehow lucky enough to be best friends with. And now that same guy is on his knees about to suck Keith’s dick and Keith is so far from okay he’s basically out of this atmosphere.

“Should I stop?” Shiro asks.

Keith shakes his head, digging his hands into the leather of Shiro’s seat and praying he doesn’t leave a mark.

“Shhh,” Shiro soothes, peppering more kisses across the tender flesh where Keith’s thigh meets his hip, reaching to lay one of Keith’s hands into his hair before poking Keith’s other hand with his until Keith gets the idea and links their fingers.

“Good boy,” Shiro praises, kissing higher, moving so close to Keith’s dick that the tip of it bumps Shiro’s ear.

Keith squeezes Shiro’s hand so hard he’s sure it must hurt but when he tries to pull away Shiro shakes his head, nuzzling his cheek against Keith’s dick as he turns his eyes on Keith. “I’m okay.”

Keith nods, nearly choking on his own saliva when Shiro opens his mouth and laps at the tip of Keith’s dick and it’s all Keith can do not to pull on Shiro’s hair or buck his hips up. Shiro does it again, making sure to keep his eyes on Keith as he wraps his metal fingers around the base of Keith’s dick to steady it then drags his tongue across the cockhead.

“Shiro,” Keith sobs, slamming his fist down onto the seat.

Shiro abandons Keith’s cock to reach for his hand again, putting it on his head once more, but this time he covers it with his own and imitates a pulling action. He gives it a squeeze and yeah Keith gets the hint now—slipping his fingers into Shiro’s forelock and fisting a hand in the hair as Shiro licks up the underside of Keith’s dick.

Parked outside of the Wendy’s on fifth street, Keith swears he sees fucking heaven.

Shiro sucks and licks and moans, as if being shoved into a sardine can and choking on Keith’s dick is somehow pleasurable for him. The harder Shiro sucks the harder Keith squeezes his hand and pulls his hair, which in turn makes Shiro moan louder and suck deeper.

Keith holds out as long as he can, mesmerizing the way Shiro looks with his nose shoved into Keith’s pubic hair and his lips stretched wide, but the second Keith’s dick hits the back of Shiro’s throat he’s a fucking goner. He doesn’t even have time to warn Shiro. The best he can do is squeeze Shiro’s hand as he throws his head back, slamming it into the fogged up window as he comes fast and hard.

If Shiro is taken by surprise he doesn’t show it, sucking Keith until he’s gone soft in Shiro’s mouth and his legs begin to shake.

“You still with me?” Shiro asks, come dripping out of the corner of his mouth which he wipes off with his forearm.

“Nngggh,” Keith grunts.

“Fuck you’re pretty,” Shiro says, managing to sound sweet despite his swollen lips and the come on his chin.

Keith grunts again, too boneless to form coherent words. Shiro chuckles, crowing above Keith on all fours and kissing him.

The taste of his own release on Shiro’s tongue is a little strange, and also the hottest thing to ever happen to Keith who moans, throwing an arm up around Shiro’s neck.

“Was it okay?” Shiro asks between kisses, stroking the side of Keith’s face in his hands.

Keith files away the knowledge that Shiro is touchy after sex, into the treasure box inside his heart where he’s been locking away all the things he loves about Shiro for the last year.

“Perfect,” Keith mumbles, wondering if it’s possible to lose brain cells during ejaculation. 

“Good,” Shiro smiles, kissing the tip of Keith’s nose.

“Oh no,” Keith gasps.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asks.

“You! You didn’t come. I’m the worst boyfriend ever,” Keith bemoans.

“You wanna be my boyfriend?” Shiro asks, latching on to the wrong part.

“Obviously,” Keith says, scooting up a bit to reach for Shiro’s dick.

To his surprise Shiro blushes, the red that spreads across his face visible even in the dim parking lot light.

“What’s wrong? You don’t...you don’t want me to touch you?” Keith asks, heart dropping.

“No, I do. Or I mean- I would, just—” Shiro stops, hunching his shoulders up.

“Just what?”

“Icamefromsuckingyourdick,” Shiro yells all in one go.

It takes Keith a few seconds to catch the meaning but when he does, a warm feeling bubbles up in his chest—affection so strong it makes his heart beat harder.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Shiro says, shoulders dropping just a little.

“Hey, Shiro?”

“Yeah, Keith?”

“Will you still get me a four for four?” Keith grins.

“Just for the record are we talking about nuggets or dicks right now?” Shiro asks. “Because I could murder some nuggets right now.”

Keith laughs. “Nuggets now, dicks later. How does that sound?”

Shiro grins, bending down to give Keith one more kiss.

“Sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream about Shieth with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/goldentruth813)


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